Eponine's Guardian
by DoctorPhantom
Summary: Having escaped her parents, Eponine now works as a stagehand for the famous Opera Populaire. Unknown to her, a self-proclaimed guardian angel lurks in the shadows as a revolution begins…. I DO NOT OWN PHANTOM OF THE OPERA OR LES MISERABLES! (Rated T because paranoia).
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So, I got bored and decided to write you people this lovely fanfic! Seeing as you guys mentioned that there should be more Erik/Eponine fics out in the world..this happened... So enjoy and happy reading!**

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She sighed, leaning on the railing as she did so. The stage was almost ready for the new production of Hannibal. They had put in a lot of work so far-and herself more than some of the others. Eponine smiled to herself as she straightened, adjusting one of the ropes.

It had been three months since she had started working for the opera house. The stagehand job had been the best they could offer-she couldn't dance or sing, and she didn't want to put herself out in public for everyone to see, after all. The others had all laughed at the idea that a _girl_ could be a stagehand, but she had worked to prove herself. She may look small and plainer than some, but life on the street had taught her how to work.

She grunted, pulling up one of the backdrops as Buquet shouted instructions from below. Her life hadn't been all that easy. Especially when Cosette had left the inn. Then her parents had turned to her and Azelma-her younger sister-to work the inn, doing all of Cosette's chores. Not long after, the inn had fallen into bankruptcy and they had been forced to sell it away and live on the streets. She and her sister had both thought it might give them a chance to change-a chance for her parents to live honestly for once in their lives.

That dream had lasted only a few short weeks before they were being roped into helping out with scam after scam. If it wasn't that, it was watching out for the police or distracting the couple so her father and his goons could rob them blind. She always hated that part. What had they ever done to deserve to be robbed? Not to mention the fact that they had only gotten worse as she had gotten older. Before she knew it: it was either work or eat nothing at all.

Then Azelma had died last winter. Eponine could still remember it-could still remember trying to hide every penny from her parents in the hope of buying medicine so she could get better. She had worked more, had gone to places she had never dared go before, had slept with every man who could pay. In the end, it hadn't been enough. To make things worse: her father had found out. He had yelled at her, beat her, accused her of stealing from him.

She tied the rope off, shaking her head as she moved on to the next one. Her steal from him? Though the thought had crossed her mind more than once, the fear of being caught had kept her from it. She had been careful to hide the money she had spent on food, to choose the worst clothing for herself and then make it look worse to fool them.

But that night. That night had been the worst. That night she had fled, terrified of her father, terrified that he might try to kill her one day soon. Why did her parents have to be like that? Rob everyone, cheat everyone out of their money? Make it so that everyone knew them and hated them for it? She hadn't even given her real name when she had applied for a job. They might recognize her then, send her back, and she couldn't have that.

Eponine shuddered, thinking about what might happen if they had sent her back instead of letting her stay. She glanced over her shoulder, peering at the darkness. She shook her head. It was just the thought of her father that made her look.

But then again, there was the opera ghost. The phantom that lived in the shadows, causing accidents to happen, playing pranks, demanding money from the managers. The other boys loved to spook her, popping up out of the shadows, untying one of her ropes.

They reminded her of Grantaire. Her friend from the schoolboys that hung out around the opera house's streets. He always loved to drink, and the more he drank, the louder he would sing and joke-not to mention the louder Enjorlas would yell at him to be quiet.

"Everything's good here, 'Ponine!" Buquet shouted up.

"I'll be going then!" she called out.

"Where're you running off to this time?" he demanded.

"Enjorlas said he's planning something big! He said he's going to announce it this afternoon!"

Buquet chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, you go on ahead! Just be back here in the morning to finish up! Or else the opera ghost is gonna be so mad at you, he'll hang you from the rafters!"

She rolled her eyes and bid him farewell. Before, she wouldn't have slept a wink. Now, she only laughed with him at the supposed opera ghost. Nothing could ever be worse than her father, and certainly no phantom would ever be able to scare her off.


	2. Chapter 2

"There she is!" Grantaire shouted, holding the bottle toward her. "We almost thought you weren't going to make it, 'Ponine!"

"And miss one of Enjolras's announcements?"

"I bet it's another one of his heroic speeches!" someone shouted out. "Always fun to watch those!"

She frowned, seeing someone else talking with him. "Who's that? I've never seen him before."

"Marius-something," Gavroche pointed out, squeezing between the older boys. "He's new. Just joined up today." He motioned for her to kneel and leaned in, lowering his voice. "I hear he's all fancy and rich! Got a grandfather someplace with loads of money!"

"And he's come to join us?" Eponine smiled.

"It's true. The boys and I are good like that. So…. What's the word on your side of the street?"

"A new opera's premiering."

"Do you think you could get us tickets?" Grantaire asked. "I'd love to get a look at all the pretty chorus girls! Singing, dancing, rubbing arms with the fanciest money around all of Paris! Ah, that would be the life, wouldn't it?" He gave her a salute. "I propose a toast, then! To Eponine! The classiest of us all! The princess of the stagehands at the opera populaire!"

They cheered and she laughed, giving a fancy curtsy as she did so.

"Alright, alright! Quiet now!" Enjolras called out. "Time for the big news: the word is that General Lamarque fell ill last night. They've got him stashed away in his fancy home, but we won't let him be alone! I say tomorrow he hears the voice of the people! The voices of his brothers-and sister in Eponine here. General Lamarque is not alone and we are his children-the ones he has fought for. We are the ones he has spoken out for. He is the only one who speaks for us, who gives us a voice. It is time we show him our love in return for all he has done for us!"

Cheers rose up from the crowd. A whistle sounded and they turned, seeing the policeman there. Eponine's eyes went wide, recognizing Javert.

"What do you boys think you're doing here?" he demanded.

"We are here for the people!" Enjolras pointed out, making his way toward the front.

"Then find the people elsewhere."

"This is a street! The streets belong to us. They're the only ones that have ever welcomed us!"

"And now so will the jailhouse."

"Help!" someone screamed. "Police! Help! I've been robbed! The Thenardiers!"

Javert growled. "Count yourself lucky this time, boy. Next time: you won't be. All of you!"

He turned and went off in the direction of the scream. Gavroche tugged on her sleeve.

"You better get out of here, 'Ponine," he pointed out. "Before they know you're here!"

She nodded. "Thanks. I owe you."

She ran off, darting through one of the alleys as a detour. She glanced over her shoulder, checking to see if anyone was following her, listening to see if anyone was calling her name….

She leaned against a wall, catching her breath. She gasped, seeing them on the steps of the opera house, disguised as peasants, begging for coins from the upper class walking by. Eponine cursed them, trying to think of a way to get in without being seen.

She crept out, trying to blend in with the crowd. She stepped out, skirting around the side of the stairs.

"Mademoiselle?" her father's voice called out. "Got a coin to spare for an ailing man?"

She froze and shook her head, trying to keep her distance, trying to keep her head down.

"A pretty girl like you must have something," her mother added. "Won't you take pity on a poor old couple? Don't you have a heart?"

"Christine!" an unfamiliar voice called out.

She glanced up, seeing a strange man in a cloak and suit, the brim of his hat lowered over his face.

"I've been waiting for you to come to rehearsal," he continued. "Best not keep me waiting any longer." He held out his hand and stiffly motioned for her to join him. "Now!"

She nodded in understanding and went to join him, hurrying to his side.

"And as for you." He took a coin out and flicked it in their direction. "Be thankful I'm not calling the police right this moment. Get off my opera house. _Now._ "

They scrambled to go as he gripped her shoulder, turning her toward the inside.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You have no idea how thankful I am for what you did there."

"You'll learn they have quite the reputation." He led her down a side corridor. "And a tendency to return. Rats often do."

"If you don't mind me asking: who are you?" she asked.

His grip on her shoulder tightened a bit before relaxing. "Erik. It's my-job-to manage things around here. Better you didn't remember seeing my face. The owner of this opera house set me to be in charge of how things operate-see to it everything goes as it should."

"Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I do my best work in the shadows, hidden in a crowd, a face you see but don't remember." He stopped and she blinked, realizing that he had walked her to her room. "Time for us to part ways, mademoiselle."

"My name's Eponine by the way, not Christine," she pointed out. "Eponine Jondrette."

"Of course." He nodded. "Good night, Mademoiselle Jondrette. Oh: and it would be in your best interest to forget our conversation ever occurred. You're a good stagehand. It would be a shame if something were to happen to you."

"Threats don't scare me."

"A warning, then." He turned to go. "Farewell, Mademoiselle."


	3. Chapter 3

Erik sighed, returning back to his lair. That one had always been a curiosity to him. The others he could frighten into doing the opera ghost's bidding...but her...they had worked at first, only somehow the threats had lessened with her. She would laugh them off, playing into it as if things were all a joke to her.

Then he had dug into her past. He only had her name and what she looked like to go on, but it had been enough. That was when he had learned of the Thenardiers-of their reputation amongst the gossip of Paris.

He had learned where they were hiding, had walked past to get a sense of what kind of people they were. What he had found were two scheming rats, cheating people, scamming for as much money as they could get their hands on, pickpocketing everyone who walked by-they had even tried such a thing on him once! Not to mention the robbery he had seen one night. All the money they could get their hands on and never had it been enough.

And to think the hard-working stagehand named Eponine had once been their daughter. She had taken part in their schemes at one point or another, had been a means of income more than a daughter. He could see it on her face, on the way she carefully counted her pay, carefully spent her money, saving it for only the necessities of life.

She had been the one to find something the opera ghost had misplaced, had been the one to stand up for a poor soul who had been tormented by another. She had even played her hand at slipping a pair of earrings away from Carlotta one night, stashing them someplace else and then playfully blaming it on the opera ghost in revenge. He had done his own part in helping her-the slip of a backdrop had them all believing.

Erik had helped her then simply because he had found amusement in such a thing. But today…. Today he had seen her parents there, had seen the look of panic on her face at the possibility of being caught. He doubted they would recognize her now-three months of decent meals, a roof, a bed, and better clothing had done her good. Her frame had grown a bit more, muscles having replaced the bones that had once been visible. She seemed to be happier, taking pride in her appearance, buying clothing to match the other stagehands, replacing the rags she had first come in. He could see it in the way she would joke with Buquet, with those schoolboys she loved to socialize with. He could see it in the way she so easily gave the name Jondrette instead of Thenardier, giving herself a new life outside her parents' shadows.

He reached the lair and set his hat and cloak aside. He sat at the organ, fingers ready to compose the night's music. His mind wandered as he did, the notes coming as easily as breathing to him, allowing him the chance to drift elsewhere as he so often did.

Only that night brought him memories he had long forgotten. Memories of a boy locked in a cage, tormented by gypsies, yelled at if he didn't bring in enough money. He had learned to pickpocket then-to get enough so he wouldn't be punished. He had learned to pick locks, to survive on what he could get for himself and little more.

Erik stopped then. He held a hand up to his face, fingers tracing the hard outline of the mask he wore. A boy forced to do what he could to survive….

" _Threats don't scare me,"_ her voice echoed in his mind.

 _Because you have felt the threats before,_ he silently replied. _Because you know what it's like to hear the hatred, to feel the hands, to live in fear of never having enough to satisfy them._

He stood and found an unused music sheet. He set to work, sketching out the image of her portrait. He held it out, examining his work. He could see it now. Here was the girl who knew some of what he had suffered. It wasn't much, but it was more than anyone else had ever known.

Now he knew why he had rescued her. The fear in her eyes-that same fear he had so often carried. He had wanted to help her-to help her when no one else had helped him. Erik sighed. The Thenardiers were horrible rats who deserved to be cast out of the streets for good. Eponine though seemed to be the one exception-she had somehow escaped their cruelty-had found an escape into the opera house.

This had become her sanctuary as much as it had become his. A place for them both to hide away from the world and all the harshness it had to offer them. Ah, but those rats would come again. He smiled, lightly drawing a finger along the face of her portrait.

He stood and walked over to the torture chamber, opening the door. There was one other thing to take care of before morning. He had come poking around Erik's lair…. Erik would protect the sanctuary. The opera house was a palace, and he was its guard. Rats would never dare to enter-not unless they wished to face the wrath of the opera ghost himself.


	4. Chapter 4

She woke, screams interrupting her sleep. Eponine stood and grabbed her coat, pulling it over as she opened the door.

"What happened?" she asked, joining the others.

"They found a body down by one of the cellars!"

"Probably shouldn't go, 'Ponine! I hear it's real bad!"

She glared at him and followed, even nudging her way to the front just to prove them wrong. What she found instead was something else. Police were busy taking sketches, getting notes, examining the body. Eponine gasped once she saw who the body was.

Buquet hung there, suspended between two pieces of scenery, dangling from a beam of wood by the red noose around his neck.

"Looks like a bad one," one of the officers muttered, scribbling something down in his notebook. "Guy drinks too much and this is what happens to him."

Her eyes narrowed. Buquet? Sure, he enjoyed a drink now and again, but to do something like this? He was always joking, always looking after all the stagehands. He had been the one to teach her what to do, had been the one to look past her being a girl, had been the one to give her the jobs that would let her prove herself to the other boys. He wouldn't do this-he wouldn't just leave them without some sort of farewell or some sort of sign to let them know he wasn't going to be around much longer. At least then they could have thought he was going to be sacked.

A staff banged against the floor and they all jumped, seeing Madame Giry standing there.

"Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she demanded. "Move along! All of you!"

They did as she instructed-knowing the wrath of Madame Giry was something to be feared. Even Eponine stepped lightly around her-the woman could say nothing yet still radiate simultaneous anger and disappointment. The disappointment was the worst. She had never had anyone to disappoint before-which made her want to gain woman's approval even more so.

Still, her life with her parents had taught her that there was work to be done no matter what. She went back up to the walkways and ropes, adjusting a few things here and there. She hummed to herself as she did so, filling up the silence. The others had gone to mourn Buquet and celebrate his memory with a few bottles of wine, leaving her to herself for the time being.

"A simple lullaby such as that is a curious thing to be humming in an opera house such as this."

She gasped and turned, seeing him there, just faintly outlined in the dim lighting. "Monsieur Erik," she greeted. "What are you doing up here?"

"I could ask the same of you. The stage is set for performances. Not much work to be found up here."

"There's always work." She turned back to one of the ropes, adjusting the knot.

"A lesson from your parents, I presume? How do rats such as them manage to produce a daughter like you?"

She fumbled with the rope, the question catching her off guard. She quickly secured it and kept her eyes on what she was doing. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It wasn't difficult to figure out. You needn't worry. Erik's secrets are his own-and whatever name you choose is yours."

"Why should it matter where I come from? That's all in the past. My name is Eponine Jondrette and that is all it ever will be."

"Do the schoolboys you associate yourself with know who you are?"

"Only a few-the ones who've recognized me. They know what sort of person I am and they'll beat up anyone who says otherwise. Why are you so interested in someone like me, anyways?"

"I have my reasons."

"Then if you want to ask so many questions, it's only fair if I get to ask you questions of my own." She crossed her arms. "Why did you help me yesterday?"

"You're not like the others around here. You're not afraid of the opera ghost."

"I've known worse," she muttered. "But why the sudden interest in me now? Three months I've been here and you've never talked to me before!"

"And now I begin to see why. You have a habit of asking questions. Questions that could get you into worse trouble."

"I'm hiding out in an opera house working as a stagehand so my father won't kill me. How much worse could things get for me?"

"Why are you hiding from your father? And there is more to it than the fact that he is a horrible person."

Eponine sighed and leaned on the railing. "He yelled at me, beat me, threatened to kill me. I had gotten all of that before, but that time-there was something different about it. Something that made me afraid that he would actually do it. So I ran."

He joined her at the railing. "Whatever you want to hide is yours to hide. Every person is entitled to a secret. Some more than others."

"Is that why you wear a mask? To keep your secret?"

"This?" He held a hand up to his face. "This is no secret. This is for you. If you ever saw what was beneath: you would run from Erik in fear, screaming louder than you ever have before."

She paused, remembering the stories Buquet had told her once. How she should beware the opera ghost-the being who lurked in the shadows. How he had caught glimpses before: the edge of a cloak, the faintest outline of a white mask….

"Erik? Are you the-are you the opera ghost?"

He chuckled slightly. "I suppose I am. I presume you are disappointed to learn that the dreaded opera ghost is nothing more than a man in a mask."

"But why pretend to be a ghost?"

"It is rather entertaining to see your panicked faces. Also the managers are horribly incompetent at their jobs. Who else will see to it that my opera house remains in good care?"

"This can't really be your opera house though, can it?"

"My dear: it can and it is. I designed the structure, laid the stones, oversaw every detail. I know all the secrets these walls hold, and every history they have ever seen."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "I thought someone else built this place."

"He signed the blueprints, so it is his name as the architect. I have told you before: I prefer to work in the shadows and remain unseen."

"You won't tell them, will you? Who I really am?"

"No. Erik does not reveal secrets. That is a promise. And he also keeps his promises."

"Thank you. I don't know what would happen if they knew. I don't think I want to find out."

"He truly was that horrible?"

"You have no idea."

"Erik does take great pride in his opera house. Two rats on the steps can easily be dealt with by the police. I'm certain they already have a cell set aside just for them. Or would you not want them to be arrested?"

"It's funny." She shrugged. "Despite everything they've done: some part of me still loves them."

He sighed. "I ought to be going. Things will return to normal soon enough around here. And it is getting late-those boys might weep for you should you be late."

"Of course." Eponine nodded. "Thank you for talking with me. I liked it. Made me feel less alone up here."

"I thought you came up here to be alone?"

"Turns out I didn't want to be alone after all."

"Until next time, Mademoiselle Jondrette."


	5. Chapter 5

She leaned on the railing, watching the performance below them. Hannibal was going smoothly enough despite everything that had happened. Eponine applauded with everyone, going to lower the curtains.

She frowned, catching a glimpse of one of the boxes. She recognized the new patron sitting there-a Vicomte de Chagny, if she remembered correctly. However, there was also someone with him. The new one who had joined. What had Gavroche said his name was? Marius-something. What was someone like him doing here, though?

Eponine climbed down, navigating her way backstage to get a closer look.

"Taking an interest in the patrons, I see."

She gasped and jumped, being even more confused when she didn't see him nearby. "Erik?"

"A mere trick of the voice," he explained.

"The one up in the box with the patron," she whispered. "Who is he?"

"I believe the given name was Marius Pontmercy. He is here at the insistence of the Vicomte as well as his grandfather. You're curious about the boy. Why?"

"I know him. From the meetings. I've talked to him before."

There was a screech followed by loud cursing in Italian. She rolled her eyes. Carlotta was going off about something minor again it sounded like.

"Eponine!"

She whirled around, seeing Gavroche run over and hide behind her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Javert tried to arrest me again," he shouted. "All I was doing was trying to get food...off some guy's plate...does the rest really matter though?"

"Come on," she muttered, pulling him with her. "Back here. You can hide with the sets." She shoved him behind a scenery. "Just try not to mess anything up."

He nodded and she went back, seeing that a crowd had gathered around Carlotta. Javert was also there, trying to explain the situation.

"And so rest assured, Signora: that street urchin knows what's coming for him."

His eyes landed on her and he stalked over, grabbing her arm. "You. Did you see which way he went?"

"No."

His grip on her arm tightened. "Well I still ought to arrest you. You've been around with those schoolboys, haven't you? Not to mention the kind of breed you come from."

"Is there a problem here?" a voice demanded.

They looked over, seeing the Vicomte approach with Marius in tow.

"A street urchin escaped into this opera house," Javert explained. "As for this one: she's his associate. Not to mention she'll rob all of you blind."

"Well I am the patron here and I don't believe she's done any harm here. Monsieurs?"

"The girl is one of our stagehands," Andre pointed out.

"And we need all the stagehands we have," Firmin added. "And since we are the managers, you need to release her at once."

"And how long has she been working at your opera house?"

"Three months."

"And not a single thing has gone missing in that time?"

"No monsieur."

Javert glared at her and released her arm. "Fine. Consider yourself lucky this time."

She nodded as he turned to leave. "Thank you."

"Eponine Jondrette, correct?" the Vicomte asked. "Raoul de Chagny. Your friend here speaks fondly of you."

"He does?"

"You've helped out a couple of times." He shrugged. "And you are a good friend."

She blushed. "Thank you. I really should get back up there and check to see that all the ropes are tightened and everything."


	6. Chapter 6

"So there I was, minding my own business, trying to get some food, and he comes barging in, whistles blaring!" Gavroche shouted. "And then I start running, end up hiding around the opera house, and lucky for 'Ponine here: the new patron likes her. Otherwise she would've been up in the prisons right about now."

"Ah, you think a prison can hold our friend here?" Grantaire asked. "Enjolras! What's the word on General Lamarque? You've been so quiet these past few days."

"Things don't look too good." He shook his head. "He's getting worse. And soon enough they'll be giving him a funeral-the best the government's money can buy. All the celebration and all so they can say that Lamaque belongs to them and not us. Well I won't have it. We ought to give them a lesson they won't soon forget. Lamarque belongs to the people and he will be ours."

"You're planning a revolution?" Marius asked.

"Yes! A revolution. It's time the people rose up. It's time we let our voices be heard."

"You think this will work?" Eponine asked.

"Sure." Gavroche shrugged. "I'm all for it. Gets us some excitement around here, at least."

"But will he?"

"Some things he just talks about and others he actually goes after. Never can tell which is which." He hopped down. "And now I have business to attend to. That guy I was telling you about is coming around soon."

"I thought you said he handed out coins."

"He does. But maybe he gives out bread too." He cleared this throat. "Um, Marius? Marius?"

"Who is that girl?" he asked.

Eponine followed his gaze. A young blonde girl was following a man around as they handed out coins. She was dressed like him, in similar fabrics and designs. She looked like she could be his daughter, though they didn't look alike.

"Think I've heard him calling her Cosette." Gavroche shrugged. "I say he's her father, but one of the other boys says otherwise. Thinks he's too old."

 _Cosette,_ she thought, peering at the girl closer. Now that she heard the name, she could see the resemblance to the girl that used to live with them. And the man did look something like the one that had taken her away-though she had only caught the slightest glimpse of him.

"Do you know her, 'Ponine?" Gavroche asked.

"It's been a long time," she muttered.

They moved on to another pair of beggars and Eponine's eyes went wide. "Oh no. Them."

"Who?" Marius asked.

"Thenardiers." Gavroche sighed. "This can't be good."

"Shouldn't someone stop them? Tell the police or something?" Marius asked.

"And risk getting caught yourself? Sure. Go ahead."

"I know who you are!" Thenardier shouted out. "You're Valjean, aren't you? About time someone made you pay."

"Papa!" Cosette shouted out as two of the gang grabbed Valjean's arms.

Marius ran forward. Eponine gasped and started to follow.

"You do know what you're getting into, don't you?" Gavroche asked.

"I do. And after what he's done to me…."

"Fair enough. I'll go tell Grantaire to start planning your funeral."

She rolled her eyes as he walked off. Eponine turned back to the scene and ran over to them.

"Let him go!" she shouted out, crossing her arms. "Or else Javert's gonna run over here and stick all of you in prison."

Thenardier grinned. "Boys? Leave the man for later. I've got a better idea in mind."

They released Valjean and she motioned for them to leave.

"So you've decided to come back around here, did you?" he demanded. "Steal from me and you think you can show your face again without suffering the consequences?" She gasped as he grabbed her arm. "Well you've obviously found a better job. Maybe we can settle the payment."

"I didn't steal anything from you!" she shouted out, wrenching herself free. "That money was mine! I earned it myself!"

"You worked for me, girl! Any coin you earned was mine! You didn't pay, so you stole! Now it's time for you to hand over whatever you've been stashing away this time."

"That money is mine. I don't have to give you a thing."

"Not the way I see it." He stalked toward her and she took a step back.

"I'll scream and they'll come running. Javert'll get you this time!"

"Oh I'll make you scream, girlie. I will make you scream."


	7. Chapter 7

He adjusted the brim of his hat as someone passed him, hiding the mask. The compositions hadn't been right, and a change of scenery often helped. Though this side of Paris was a much more drastic change compared to the shops and people so frequent around the opera house. Eponine often came here, he recalled. Those schoolboys met someplace nearby.

Erik stopped, hearing shouting. He turned in the direction and his eyes narrowed. Eponine was there, arguing with a man. He backed her up toward an alley, their shouting increasing as he did so.

"I didn't steal a thing!" she was shouting. "That was my money! I had to do something!"

"You stole from me, girlie!"

The man slapped her across the face and Erik made his way over to them. He struck her again, slamming her up against a wall. Erik quickened his pace, weaving through the onlookers. He struck over and over.

He reached them and reached out in time to stop the next blow. The man turned, eyes widening in surprise. Erik's eyes narrowed, recognizing him as Thenardier. He twisted his arm around behind his back and shoved him up against the wall.

"Leave," he ordered. "Now. While you still live."

Thenardier nodded and scrambled off as soon as he was released. Erik knelt by Eponine, gently touching her face. She flinched.

"It's alright. He's gone."

"Erik?" She coughed, trying to support herself.

"Here." He helped her up and looped an arm around his shoulders.

He walked her back to the opera house, opening up the gate. He picked her up and carried her down the tunnel, not trusting her feet to safely avoid the traps. Erik frowned as he walked, feeling her shaking in his arms. Whether it was from her injuries, fear, or cold he didn't know.

He opened the door to his lair and gently set her on the couch inside. Erik went and fetched some supplies, returning to look over her injuries. The one on her head was the most concerning to him.

"What-what are you doing?" she asked.

"You're bleeding," he explained. "This needs to be taken care of."

"I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"For making you do this. If I hadn't gone over there…." Her voice trailed off.

"He thought you had stolen from him. Why?"

She sighed. "I didn't. We-we had to give him all the money we made. If he caught us stashing any of it away or thought that we were spending it ourselves…."

" 'us'?"

"Azelma. My younger sister."

"I never came across anyone named Azelma Thenardier."

"You wouldn't." Eponine sighed and sat up, hugging her knees to her chest. "She died. Three months ago. She got sick and I tried to get enough money so I could help…. It didn't work in time, and he found out."

"So you ran?" Erik guessed.

She nodded. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Why did you call me Christine? You knew what my name was, but…. I mean, you could've chosen any other name. Why that one?"

 _A face appeared at the bars of his cage, giggling as she hung upside down. "Erik! Look at what I can do!"_

 _"Can you get down?"_

 _She frowned and wiggled free, awkwardly landing before she straightened and smiled. "Yes I can!"_

 _"I thought you were supposed to be a singer, Christine! Not an acrobat!"_

 _"Well I can do whatever I want. And if I want to climb all over your cage then I will."_

"You reminded me of someone," he confessed. "A friend I once had when I was a boy. Her name was Christine. Christine Daae. She was a singer."

"What happened to her?"

He sighed. "There was an accident. She was badly injured."

"I'm sorry."

He leaned closer to her and gently touched his fingers to her head. She winced and he nodded to himself. "You can rest here for the night. I'm certain no one will miss you for one night."

"Thank you for this. Never had someone actually care if I got hurt or not before."

"You're welcome. And if you ever need anything: Erik will be here. Anything at all, Eponine."

* * *

 **A/N: So yeah…. That's why no Christine this time around…. Please don't hate me! But this is an Eponine/Erik fic (with mostly Les Mis storyline) so...sorry Christine :/**


	8. Chapter 8

Erik sat at the organ, playing through one of his compositions. Despite the music, he could still hear the soft footsteps approach from behind.

"You should be in the orchestra," Eponine pointed out.

He stopped and turned to face her. "Erik does not play for them. Seeing as you are here: I suppose you are the exception. Is there anything you would like to hear?"

She sat down next to him on the bench. "The operas are the only music I've ever heard."

"You my dear have had a horrid education."

"Not much sense in learning books and music when you're busy scamming everyone." She sighed. "They used to have an inn, you know. Scammed them there too. It was less, though. We had enough money, enough customers came by. Then they stopped coming, the inn was sold, and we went out on the streets."

"Did you approve? Of what they did?"

She shook her head. "Not really for the most part. Not when they tried to rob people. They already tried to scam them, and robbing them after?" She sighed. "But if I said anything, then I would get beat up or worse."

Erik turned her face to him. "You live under my opera house now. And as long as you are here: no one will ever lay a hand on you, understand?"

Eponine looked at him and nodded. He sighed, still seeing the hidden doubt in her eyes. Years of being hurt and yelled at for something she couldn't help had hurt her. He wasn't certain if she could ever fully trust him. Then again…. He didn't know if he could trust her to not run away once she saw what was underneath the mask.

He gently held a hand up to her head, inspecting the injury there to see that it had healed properly. She sat still under his touch, her body expecting injury despite how lightly he touched her.

"You'll be alright," he murmured, withdrawing his hand. "You're lucky things weren't more serious."

"Either way, it would've been back to work and back to earning more money." She stood. "I should probably go back up to my room before they get suspicious. How do you get out of here?"

"Come."

* * *

"So you built this entire place yourself?" she asked. "I know you've already said you did, but I still can't believe it."

"Erik is very good at what he does." He led her to her room.

She smiled and opened the door, pausing when she did so. Her things had been tossed all over, the wardrobe left open, the blankets torn from the bed. Eponine ran over to the wardrobe, fingers prying at the loose board. She set the board aside and found the bag, holding it in her hand, sighing with relief at finding the coins still inside.

"So they found where you are," Erik murmured. "I suggest you begin packing. I'll pass a note on to the managers regarding your transfer to new lodgings."

"But-I can't afford to stay anywhere else," she pointed out.

"You will stay with Erik. You can use the tunnels to access the opera house, and I doubt they will manage to get past Erik's traps."

"You'd let me stay with you? Why?"

"You are not your parents, Eponine," he insisted. "And you shouldn't be out on the streets."

"Thank you. No one's ever been this nice to me before."

"Not even the schoolboys?"

"They still see some of my parents in me-and all of them have been robbed by them at least once or twice. Hard to look past that."

"Perhaps you ought to keep that name, then? Eponine Jondrette. It suits you."

"You aren't reminded of my parents?"

"Oh, I've seen worse. Much worse."

She went to hug him and he flinched. He slowly returned the gesture, holding her against him before he stepped back.

"Your things. I'll wait outside for you to finish."

* * *

"Marius?" she greeted, walking over to them. "You're okay?"

"Thanks to you." He smiled. "Hope things didn't go too badly, did they?"

"No." She shook her head. "I've had worse."

"I owe you, 'Ponine. I really do."

"Everyone!" Enjolras shouted out. "They've just announced it. General Lamarque is dead. This is what we've been waiting for. The time to rise up is now. The time for our voices to be heard is now. Grantaire! Get all the guns you can find. Gavroche? Spread the word! When that funeral procession begins, so does our revolution!"


	9. Chapter 9

She turned to leave, only to pause as Marius turned elsewhere to go. She sighed and ran over to catch up.

"You're going a different way now," she pointed out.

"I have-there's this place I go to…."

Eponine gently hit him. "You can tell me. Who am I gonna tell?"

He smiled. "Cosette. She and I have been talking. Every night in the garden, we'll meet. It's been a secret though. Thanks to you, we've been able to talk. If you hadn't stopped Thenardier that day…."

"But with the revolution happening soon…."

"That makes seeing her all the more important. Don't you have someone you love to go see?"

"No one like that. He's a friend."

"Well this is it." He glanced at her. "You should probably…."

"Yeah." She turned to go. "Got my own place to go to."

Marius nodded and went over to the fence. "Cosette? Cosette?"

Eponine smiled, seeing her friend grin as Cosette approached. She paused however, seeing figures lurking in the shadows. She went over to investigate, seeing the outlines of her father and two others from one of the gangs he would hang around with.

"This is it, boys," Thenardier hissed. "This is where he lives. Time to take what we're owed."

She glanced at the house and then back to them. They were going to rob Valjean! Eponine sighed and bit her lip, going to try to stop them.

"We've got company!" one of them whispered.

"Go away," she insisted. "They have anything worth stealing!"

"Well, well, well if it isn't Eponine." Thenardier grinned and walked over to her. "Looks like I didn't teach you a good enough lesson last time. And with no one around to protect you."

"I don't need anyone to protect me. Just go away and leave them alone. These people have done nothing! They don't have much money to themselves! They're ordinary people!"

He grabbed her arm. "Then why should you care so much, eh?"

"I'll scream. I'll warn them."

His grip tightened. "Do it and you'll be screaming for the rest of your life."

She blinked, seeing the flash of a cloak in the alleyway. The light caught part of the figure, showing her just the hint of a white mask. Eponine grinned and opened her mouth, letting out a loud shriek.

"Don't just stand there!" Thenardier growled. "Go! Leave her to me and go!"

The others scrambled off. He made to follow with her in tow. A hand freed her arm and pulled her against him.

"It would be better if you didn't make me regret allowing you to live, Thenardier," Erik growled.

" 'Ponine!" Marius shouted, running over to them. "What was that? Are you alright? Who's he?"

"He's my friend," she explained. "As for the screaming...it was the only way to make Thenardier and his gang go away. We should go too. Before someone calls the police on us."

"Agreed." Erik nodded.

"Thanks again, Eponine!" Marius called out after her. "I owe you!"


	10. Chapter 10

Erik sighed, closing the door behind them. "Why is it that every time I leave you alone, you end up almost getting yourself killed?"

"I had to do something!" she argued. "I couldn't just let them rob him!"

"Then perhaps it would be better for you to remain here. No more working as a stagehand and no more going out to see those schoolboys. Not if it means you placing yourself in danger over and over again."

"I have to go! Enjolras is planning the revolution and if I don't go to help they'll die!"

"Not my concern."

"They're my friends! If you could have done something to help Christine-to help your friend-wouldn't you do it?"

"Christine is dead. Nothing you say will change that fact."

"And I am going to help my friends whether you want me to or not!" She turned and started for the door.

He grabbed her arm to stop her. "You are going nowhere. I am doing this for your own safety, Eponine. I couldn't help Christine then, I couldn't stop her. But I can stop you."

She tried to wriggle out of his grasp. Eponine reached over and ripped his mask off, gasping as she did so.

He recoiled and stepped back, releasing her to cover up where the mask had been. It was already too late. She had gotten a glimpse of it-had seen the deformity beneath. The sunken in flesh, the parts where it looked more like a layer of skin had been set over bone. The eyes that had fallen back into their sockets, the way his mouth was twisted at the corner into a permanent frown.

* * *

Erik knelt on the ground, kneeling before her, covering his face with both hands. He heard something drop to the floor followed by the sound of her receding footsteps. He glanced up, seeing that she had gone, leaving the mask behind. He reached for it and quickly put it back on.

All he had wanted to do was protect her, keep her safe. Eponine. He had wanted to keep her safe. Safe from her father, safe from the gunfire that would rain down on that revolution, safe from the man behind the mask….

Now she was running. Running to those boys, running to throw herself into the line of fire. They were going to die. Erik knew that. He had heard that the police were planning ways to end their revolution, to kill each and every one of them. Despite his best efforts not to, he could see them. He could see their bodies, each one positioned to look as if they were sleeping. He could see Eponine amongst them.

Eponine. He had been drawn to her. He had been drawn to protect her, to keep her safe, to give her a place where she could feel safe with him. He had grown to care for her, to be concerned about her more than any other person.

He realized he had begun to enjoy watching her work more than he enjoyed the performances onstage. He enjoyed seeing the look of determination, the way she was willing to work hard to prove herself. And the softer sides that would show-those moments when she would allow him to see what she was feeling, how much she had been hurt. There was a gentleness to her-one that she had been afraid of showing anyone else.

That gentleness, that small gentleness in her. That small part of her that she had kept to herself, had kept protected from her parents. He had seen that small part, and he had come to love it. He had come to love that part of her and had wanted to protect it, to care for the Eponine who had been hurt, who had kept herself hidden away until it had become all he could see. There was no part of her in his eyes that resembled the Thenardiers-no part that made him wonder if she would be the same as them.

She was Eponine.

And he loved her.

Erik stood and went to change, adjusting his mask as he did so. He would follow her to the revolution. If she planned on dying, then so be it. But she would not die alone. He couldn't let her die alone.


	11. Chapter 11

Eponine stood with the others. She glanced at them and then at herself, glad to have found an old coat and hat. Now she looked just like one of them. Drums rolled and trumpets blared as the procession began to arrive.

She eyed the people that had gathered. She recognized her friends amongst the mourners. Enjolras, Grantaire, Marius, Gavroche, all of them. They had come, standing side by side, ready for when the time came.

* * *

Erik maneuvered through the crowd, searching the figures. Perhaps he could pull her away before this all started. He kept searching, trying to find where she was. He couldn't call out her name. They could start and then…. He couldn't risk it. He had to find her. Soon.

A red flag was waved and they began surging toward the casket. Two of them climbed on top while others walked alongside it. He looked to the guards, seeing them begin to panic, already shouting for the others. They turned their horses, stopping the procession.

"Halt!" one of them shouted. "And stop this nonsense!"

A shot rang out followed by panicked yelling and more gunshots. The crowd broke into chaos as the guards surged forward, beginning their attacks.

"To the barricades!" one of them shouted out.

He pushed his way through, trying to find her, praying that she hadn't been shot. Erik dodged the bullets, searching for any sign of her.

"Eponine!" he shouted out. "Eponine!"

A guard galloped past and he moved, taking the horse from him. He followed the crowd to the barricades, past pieces of falling furniture and boys carrying tables to add to the barricades while others fired, trying to keep the soldiers at bay.

He dismounted and joined them, trying to find any sign of her.

"Eponine!" he shouted out. "Eponine!"

The guards slowly retreated and he stared at the boys around him, trying to find her. His eyes narrowed, seeing a smaller boy lifting furniture, adding to the barricade. He walked over to him and helped with the load.

"Thanks, monsieur!" He grinned.

"Eponine," he began. "Have you seen her?"

He nodded and pointed. "She went in there."

"Thank you." Erik paused, looking at the boy. "You ought to get yourself out of here. You still have a life to live, you know."

"These are my friends." He shrugged. "Someone's gotta look after them. If not me, then who else?" He frowned, eyeing him. "You're the guy who was asking about 'Ponine, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"Well she's my sister and no guy like you is gonna beat on her."

"I have no such intention. I only came to take her away from all of this. Get her someplace safe."

"Oh. Well she is stubborn, that's for sure. Good luck, monsieur!"

"Thank you." He paused. "Eponine is your sister?"

He nodded.

"She's lucky."

"I know."

Erik turned to leave, heading toward the building he had been directed to. The place was crowded with them, each one loading up guns, shouting to each other, making bullets. He nudged his way past, seeing her sitting at a table, helping another to clean out guns.

"Eponine," he greeted.


	12. Chapter 12

Eponine looked up, seeing him there. Her eyes widened, not expecting to have followed her here. Grantaire followed her gaze and started to stand.

"It's alright," she muttered, standing. "I've got this. You can finish up here, right?"

"Leave it to me." He nodded and raised his bottle toward her in salute.

She led him outside and crossed her arms, glaring at him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to find you-to bring you back, away from all of this."

"Well you came here for nothing because I am staying."

"Those guards-they have weapons and men to spare. Far more than you have here. They won't waste their guns trying to get you to leave. They will kill you-all of you if that's what it takes."

"Well they're my friends and I am not leaving them."

"What must Erik say for you to understand?"

"They are my friends," she insisted. "They're the ones who know who my parents are and still like me! Sure, it might be insane, but I don't care! They are my friends and I am not leaving them!"

"And I am not leaving you. No matter what you say or how you feel about Erik. I am not leaving you here."

"Your choice! Why should I care?"

She sighed and turned back to go, leaving him. She sat against a wall. Gavroche walked in and sat down next to her.

"I take it the conversation didn't go well?" he asked.

"How did you-?"

"Ran into him. He really doesn't like you being here, does he?"

"Well that's his problem," she snapped. "I'm staying whether he wants me to or not."

"Then get back out there and say a real goodbye before he goes," he insisted. "Guys like that don't come around all that often, you know. Better to get it in now than regret what could've been."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the guy followed you all the way out here just to make sure you're safe. He even asked around about you and your family and he still liked you enough to follow you all the way out here!"

She sighed. "I guess...when you put it that way…."

"You know what I think? I think he might be in love with you."

"Who?" Marius asked, walking over.

"The guy in the mask," Gavroche answered before she could say anything. "The one who just showed up."

"The guy who was there the other night?"

"Him." She nodded.

"He's been following you?" Gavroche asked. "He has it worse than I thought."

"He is not in love with me," she argued. "And even if he was, well-I-" She stood. "It doesn't matter."

Eponine walked off from them, going outside for some air. She didn't know what she thought. True, he had been there for her again and again, and now he had come to the barricades…. She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. She wasn't used to the idea that someone could actually, really like her. Her parents hadn't thought much of her-other than a way to make more money. Her sister had liked her enough, but then she had died…. Buquet had died as well. And her friends-they were all here, fighting a revolution.

She frowned, seeing someone with the others at the barricade. She walked over and nudged him with her foot.

"You're still here?" she asked. "Don't you have someplace else to be? Like your opera house?"

"Carlotta can't sing, Piangi needs to lose some weight, Madame Giry can handle the dancers on her own, and the managers are horribly incompetent." Erik smiled slightly. "There wasn't much reason for me to be there other than to be the opera ghost."

"So why haven't you left?"

"You were correct. Your friends could use all the help they can get." He stood. "And the army has more tricks up their sleeves than you could count."

Someone walked in and she frowned, eyeing him as he went over to talk with Enjorlas. They went into the building and Eponine followed, Erik close behind her.

"I have been to their side," the newcomer announced. "The army is more powerful than us. They have guns and men to spare. But there is a small glimmer of hope. I've overheard one of them talking about their plans. They'll wait for three days before they attack, with most of their forces concentrated on the right."

Murmurs flew throughout the boys. Enjolras held his hand up for silence. "We'll be able to take them. We know what they're planning now! Good work, monsieur."

He nodded and left, passing by them as he did so. Eponine's eyes widened as she saw the face underneath the hat he wore.

"Gavroche?" she called out.

He looked at the man and nodded, climbing up on top of a crate. "Enjorlas! He's lied to you! To all of us!"

Erik grabbed his arm, stopping him from leaving. He ripped off the hat and tossed it aside.

"It's Javert!" Gavroche continued. "Nothing more than a spy!"

"We've got soldiers coming!" someone shouted out.

"To the barricade!" Enjorlas shouted. "Arm yourselves! You two! Take him prisoner and tie him up! We'll deal with him later."


	13. Chapter 13

Erik grabbed a hold of her arm, leading her with him, the other hand grabbing a gun. He took up position and aimed, firing at the soldiers.

"Stay back, Eponine," he insisted. "There's too many coming to count. They were waiting for us to be distracted." He fired again, taking one down.

"They're climbing over the barricade!" she called out.

"Back." He grabbed her arm and pulled her back.

One of the boys grabbed a barrel of gunpowder, running toward the top of the barricade as he did so.

"Marius!" Eponine shouted, going to run after him.

"Stay here," Erik ordered, grabbing her arm. He ran after the boy, shooting at the soldiers aiming for him.

* * *

She watched as Erik ran after Marius, firing at the soldiers. There were so many of them coming, and they could barely hold their own as it was….

Her eyes widened, seeing one of the soldiers climbing up on the other side of them, aiming his gun. She ran toward the soldier, meeting him, shoving the gun out of the way as the shot went wild. He saw her and his eyes narrowed, aiming the gun at her.

* * *

"Back!" Marius shouted. "All of you! Get back! Or I'll blow it!"

"Do it and take yourself with it," the soldier challenged.

"And myself with it." He lowered the flame.

"Back! All of you get back! Retreat!"

The soldiers left as the others took the gunpowder and torch away from Marius, some cheering him, some shouting at him.

Erik sighed and climbed back down, handing the gun off. He frowned, seeing that she wasn't there. He looked around, seeing a figure crouched amongst the barricade. He ran over and knelt beside her, seeing the blood on her shirt.

"Eponine," he whispered. "Here." He took her jacket and tore off strips of fabric, wrapping them around her. "This should help stop the bleeding. What did you do?"

"I saw him aiming at you," she explained. "I had to stop him. Otherwise you'd be dead."

He looked at her. "Stopping one bullet isn't worth your life."

"It would've killed you."

He sighed and picked her up, carrying her. "And now it's Erik's turn to stop that bullet from killing you."

He carried her back inside and up the stairs, laying her on a table. He undid the bandages and her shirt, gently inspecting the wound.

"It doesn't appear to have injured anything too dangerous," he murmured, finding a needle and thread. "The bleeding itself though…." He began stitching her up and she winced. "You ran out there. Why?"

"I told you why."

"You could have just as easily let that bullet hit me, saved yourself from this."

"I saw him aiming at you. I couldn't sit there and do nothing." She smiled slightly. "Gavroche...he thinks you might be in love with me."

"He does?"

She nodded. "I don't know what to think for myself. Everyone who's liked me...everyone I've liked...they've all left."

He finished and reached over, gently touching her face. "Erik won't leave you."

"You almost did."

"And yet I am still here." He helped her sit up and put her shirt back on. "And I won't leave you as long as you don't leave me."

She smiled. "I won't. I promise."


	14. Chapter 14

Erik sighed, keeping watch with the others. A few days had passed with little more action. Valjean had come, and they had welcomed the help. He had even volunteered to shoot Javert.

He glanced back toward the building. Eponine was helping out as well, loading up guns, looking after wounds…. He knew she wanted to do more, that she wanted to fight as well, but with the injury still healing, he had just barely managed to convince her to stay inside.

"Erik?" Enjolras called out, nodding for him to join.

He nodded and followed him,, stopping away from where everyone could hear.

"Things aren't looking that great," he pointed out. "I know when things are going badly, and I'm not one to risk people's lives. If you want to leave, do it now and we won't hold it against you. We've already begun to clear the women and children away from the area."

"I told her I wouldn't leave," he pointed out.

"Understood. We're glad to have you."

He nodded and turned to go back to the barricade. He had to keep watch. The soldiers had surprised them once before. That wasn't a mistake they would make a second time.

"Anything out there?" Marius asked, joining him.

"Nothing so far."

"Thanks for looking after 'Ponine," he muttered. "She's a good friend, so it means a lot."

"Her name?"

"What?"

"The woman you so obviously care about. What is her name?"

"Cosette. How'd you know?"

"You seem distracted and you aren't fully dedicated to this cause despite what you'd rather believe."

"Oh." He blinked. "It doesn't matter. She's gone away. Left for England."

"Yet her father is here, as I understand things."

"Doesn't mean he can't still send Cosette away."

"Marius! Erik!" Enjolras called out. "We're starting to have a problem."

"What's wrong?" Marius asked.

"The guns are running low on ammunition. We don't have enough to keep up with the supplies."

Erik turned his gaze toward the soldiers lying on the barricade. "They have bullets."

"And risk getting shot?" Marius asked.

"Either that or we have nothing left to fire at them with."

"I'll go," Marius volunteered.

"You still have a life after this," Erik insisted, stopping him. He frowned, hearing something.

He turned to the barricade, seeing Gavroche amongst the bodies, whistling as he stole bullets off the bodies. Erik glanced up, seeing the soldiers who were starting to take notice.

"Gavroche!" he called out.

Marius and Enjolras joined him.

"Gavroche? What are you doing? Get back here!"

A bullet flew toward the barricade, missing him.

"Gavroche!" Erik called out. "Come back!"

Another gunshot, this one landing in his leg. He cried out and fell toward the ground, wincing as he stood back up.

"What's going on?" someone called out behind them. "What was that?"

One more gunshot rang out and Gavroche fell toward the ground. Enjolras climbed down and went to grab him. Marius and Erik took their guns, aiming them at the soldiers. He returned, gently cradling his body.

"Gavroche?" Eponine called out, running over toward them. "Gavroche!"

Erik climbed down to catch her as she fell to her knees, silent tears falling down her face. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

He frowned, feeling something else against his shirt. He glanced down, seeing that there was fresh blood on her shirt.

"Eponine?"

He eyed her, seeing that her skin was pale, her eyes closed.

"Eponine?" He gently shook her. "Eponine!"

He stood, carrying her in his arms. Marius ran over to them.

"I have to leave," he explained. "If I don't get her help soon, she'll die."

"Good luck. To both of you."


	15. Chapter 15

Erik sighed, returning to the street where the barricade had been. News travelled fast, and it had only been a matter of time before he had heard that the revolution was over, that they had lost.

He walked into the building, seeing the bodies laid out in a row for people to claim. He looked over the faces, seeing that nearly all of them were dead-the ones who weren't there he could count on one hand. He was glad he didn't know them too well, didn't know who had mothers, fathers, sisters, or brothers waiting for the boy who would never come home.

He forced himself to return, walking back to the hospital. He gave a nod to one of the nuns who smiled as he entered. He walked to her bed, sitting back in the chair he had occupied, waiting for her to wake up.

Erik reached out and lightly drew his fingers along her face, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. They had found a doctor to properly stitch her wounds, and then it was only a matter of waiting for her to regain consciousness. She had woken a few times, only to lose consciousness again, but it was enough. He knew that she would be alright, that she would live.

He reached for his compositions, continuing to work on one while he waited.

* * *

"Erik?"

He looked over at her, seeing her eyes open. "Eponine," he breathed.

She tried to sit up and he went to help her. "Careful. You're still healing."

"What happened?"

"You started bleeding from your wounds. You lost consciousness and I had to take you here. There wasn't much of a choice."

"What about the others?"

He sighed. "The revolution ended. The army killed them. I'm sorry, Eponine. You were dying. Erik had no other choice than to bring you here."

Her shoulders fell and she slowly nodded. "I understand. You still helped out." She sniffed. "I just wish it had ended differently."

He held his hand up to her face and gently wiped a tear away. "It's alright to cry for them, to mourn your friends."

"But what happens now? I doubt I have much of a job left at the opera house, and I can't go back to those streets without being reminded of them…."

"I might know of a place."

* * *

He led her out of the carriage and over to the small home. She still leaned on him for some support, though she was healed enough to leave the hospital. He opened the door and helped her inside, easing her into a chair.

"This looks like your flat underneath the opera house," she pointed out.

"The design is similar, but I can assure you that this one is quite different."

"How did you manage to afford something like this?"

"The opera ghost did have a salary of twenty thousand francs a month. Also the architect who helped design this was the one I worked with when building the opera house. He designed the opera house's structure and Erik oversaw the details."

"This one is still really nice."

"Erik is happy to hear you approve." He knelt beside her. "He was hoping that you might wish to stay here with him. You can live here with Erik. You won't ever have to live on the streets again and this street is far from any of the ones the Thenadiers frequented, so you don't ever have to be near them again. You may even continue to be known as Eponine Jondrette should you wish it."

She smiled. "I'd like that."

He smiled as well. "Then it's settled. You'll stay here."

"Erik? Do you have a name? For your family, I mean."

He shook his head. "Erik never had much of a family. He had an unhappy mother. That much he can remember."

"Then use mine," she suggested. "I mean-if you want to."

"Are you suggesting marriage?"

"I am." She blushed. "I guess I ended up being a little bit in love with you."

He smiled and gently kissed her. "And Erik loves you as well."

* * *

 **A/N: So...have been thinking bout maybe adding epilogue part to this(?) IDK...just hasn't felt like an end end, you know? So in case that does happen, feel free to click on alerts/favorites so if that does happen then you'll be one of the first to know! Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. Bye! :)**


	16. Epilogue 1

Erik stood at the edge of the crowd. He had never been one for festivities or large gatherings. However: Marius and Cosette were to be married today, and Marius had insisted that Eponine come when she was able. She seemed happy enough, hugging her friend and his new wife, offering her congratulations to them.

"I'm glad you managed to come," Marius pointed out, making his way over to Erik while the two women talked.

"She insisted," he pointed out.

"Cosette and I can return the favor-if you and her have a wedding date set, that is. Eponine was talking about it."

"A small gathering with relatively few guests," he explained. "The minimal amount at best."

"Understandable."

He straightened, seeing two people walk in. His eyes narrowed in disgust.

"Them," Marius muttered. "I'll go and toss them out."

"I'll accompany you."

They walked over and the two bowed.

"Such a lovely occasion!" Monsieur Thenardier pointed out. "It gives us great pleasure to see such a pair of happy lovers, you know."

"Go away," Erik growled. "Now."

"He's right," Marius added. "You're not welcome here."

"Oh? Because I have a bit of information that might interest you about your so-called father-in-law. If the price is right, I mean."

"What do you mean?"

"Marius," Erik warned.

"No let him speak."

"At least one of you has decency." Thenardier cleared his throat. "Well you know that night those barricades fell? I saw your father-in-law Jean Valjean himself dragging a body through the sewers. Makes you wonder what he was doing then, eh?"

"You're lying."

"You think I am, but then you see this!" He pulled out a ring from his pocket. "Plucked this off the poor boy he was dragging around. Now: shall we discuss payment for this bit of information?"

"You got this from the boy?" Marius took the ring from him and inspected it. "This ring...it was mine. I thought I had lost it that night. Then that means that Valjean was the one who rescued me then! I have to go. Cosette!"

He ran over to her and Erik turned his attention back to them. "Now you leave."

"Eponine, dear!" Thenardier called out. "Eponine! Be a good girlie and tell this man to leave us so we can enjoy the party...or else."

"No." She joined them and stood by Erik, crossing her arms as she did so.

"No?" Thenardier growled, going for her. "Why I ought to-"

Erik put out an arm and easily stopped him, blocking his path. "Leave. Now, Thenardier." He pushed him back. "And you better not dare lay a single hand on her again or else you'll have worse things to worry about."

"You'll let this man talk that way to your own father?" he demanded.

"I'll let my _fiance_ do whatever he wants!" she argued. "I don't have to take orders from you. Not anymore."

His face widened before the two of them scurried out, being carefully watched by both Erik and the others. He smirked at their retreat, wrapping an arm around Eponine's shoulders.

"I doubt there will be disappointment from never seeing them again," he murmured.

She sighed and shook her head. "I can't believe it took me this long to finally stop caring about what happens to them. Guess I finally realized what it's like to have someone who actually cares for me."

"And Erik always will, Mademoiselle Jondrette."

"You can't call me that forever, you know. Soon it'll be 'Madame Jondrette'."

"I know."


	17. Epilogue 2

Erik glanced up from where he had been working. He smiled, seeing Eponine asleep on the sofa, their son happily curled up next to her. He walked over and picked him up, carrying the four year old to his bed, his favorite toy clutched in one hand.

"Papa?" he asked, rubbing one eye.

"You're supposed to be asleep now, Gavroche," he pointed out.

"Maman's asleep. I just didn't think it would be fair to let her sleep alone," he argued, trying to stifle a yawn.

"Well sleep now, then." He set him on the bed and pulled the blankets up over him. "I'll make certain she's not alone."

"Can we go see Uncle Marius and Enjolras tomorrow?"

"I'll ask your mother about it," he promised.

"Do you think he'll like the new baby when she gets here?"

"You don't know if it'll be a little brother or a sister."

"Maman thinks it'll be a girl." He yawned again. "And she said she's usually right about a lot of things."

"Did she now?" Erik reached out to ruffle his hair. "Go to sleep now, Gavroche. I mean it."

"Yes, papa."

He smiled and stood, softly closing the door behind him. He shook his head, seeing Eponine fast asleep. Erik found a blanket and gently placed it over her.

"Erik?" she murmured, reaching out a hand for him.

"I thought you were asleep as well," he pointed out, gently squeezing it.

"Close enough." Her eyes slightly opened and she frowned. "Where's Gavroche?"

"Asleep in his own room. He asked if we would let him visit Marius tomorrow."

She placed a hand on her swollen stomach and smiled. "If it'll make her come sooner, then yes. Have you thought about a name yet?"

"What makes you so certain it'll be a daughter?"

She shrugged. "Something tells me it'll be a girl. So what do you think we should name her?"

"Whatever you choose, Eponine."

She sighed. "Well...I was thinking Azelma...but then I thought of something else that sounded better."

"Oh?"

"Christine. What do you think?"

"I think that would be a lovely name."

* * *

Erik smiled, holding his newborn daughter in his arms. "You were right. It is a girl."

Eponine sighed and gave him a tired smile, taking her from him. "Hello, Christine. It's nice to finally meet you."

The door opened and Gavroche climbed up onto the bed, eager to see his new sister.

"He couldn't wait," Marius pointed out from the doorway. "Cosette and I will be outside if you need anything."

"I want to see!" Gavroche insisted, eyes going wide when he saw her. "She looks so tiny! Are all babies that tiny?"

"Only at first," Eponine explained. "She'll grow soon enough. You'll see."

"Can I try holding her? Please?"

She handed Christine to him, helping Gavroche hold her.

"Hi, baby." He smiled. "I'm your brother! That means that I'm in charge of all the important stuff like telling you stories and singing songs! Papa's good at singing songs too, but I can still sing. And we'll play lots of games too. Maman says that they're for when you're bigger, though, so I guess you'll have to wait.."

Erik sighed, seeing his family. He had been happy to have simply Eponine as his wife. Then she had given him his son and the three of them had been happy. Now she had given him a daughter. He couldn't quite imagine what it would be like having a daughter, but then again, he never could have imagined how his life was going to end up with his son.

He walked over to where they were and sat on the bed next to her, watching as Gavroche told his little sister all she could expect. He smiled, knowing that Christine would be in good hands with him teaching her all she needed to know.

"She's perfect," he murmured to Eponine. "They both are."

"And they have the best father there ever could be." She smiled. "They'll be safe and loved with their father watching over them."

"Of course. Erik will be there. For all of you."

* * *

 **A/N: Now we are officially finished! Yay! Thanks for reading and hope you enjoyed! :)**


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